Extenuating Circumstances
by Baptism By Fire
Summary: When Fleur Delacour showed up to work at Gringotts, she never imagined that she would be kidnapped from the safest bank in Wizarding England. The adventure that ensues is even more mind-boggling.
1. Unwanted Gazes

Extenuating Circumstances

Chapter 1 – Unwanted Gazes

Hello readers! This is my first story I've ever posted after several years of being the recipient of the wonderful (and sometimes not-so wonderful) world of fanfiction. I hope you all enjoy my story "Extenuating Circumstances."

 **Summary: When Fleur Delacour showed up to work at Gringotts, she never imagined that she would be kidnapped from the safest bank in Wizarding England. The adventure that ensues is even more mind-boggling.**

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Fleur Delacour may be a veela, but right now she really wished she was a dwarf so that she could dig a hole in the ground where the possessive eyes of a certain red-headed cursebreaker could no longer find her.

It wasn't that Bill Weasley was a bad man. Contrarily, he was really actually a very good match for the young veela.

Bill was definitely handsome. He was tall, possibly somewhat lanky, had shoulder-length fire red hair to go along with a pleasant face. Looks definitely were not the problem.

He also happened to be incredibly smart, graduating at the top of his class at Hogwarts with "O's" on almost all of his NEWTS. Of course, he wouldn't be in the job he was in now if he hadn't been brilliant. Being a cursebreaker required excellence in many subjects, namely arithmancy and runes. Being a cursebreaker at Gringotts Wizarding Bank meant being one of the best cursebreakers in the entire wizarding world.

Naturally, as a cursebreaker, Bill also was paid royally by the bank so if she were to ever get serious with him, money would never be a problem.

What _is_ a problem though, is that Bill seems to not know the concept of personal space. However, this particular problem may be of her doing. A week ago, Fleur had finally given into her co-worker's persistent, albeit slightly aggravating, attempts at a date. "What's the worst that can happen?" Were her thoughts when she finally acquiesced to his persistence.

Well, it may have not been the worst date of all time, but it certainly was an honorable mention (or in this case dishonorable).

It was a disaster from the very beginning. First, it was pouring ( _of course it was, its England_ ) and Bill had planned for them to go to the park for a picnic. So, his fallback was to cook dinner at his apartment. _Of course it was…_

Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt in terms of motive, she thought it might actually be a little romantic. But that thought went down in flames, similarly to the way the turkey he had attempted to cook had almost burnt down the kitchen. He finally conceded defeat at trying to cook anything too difficult and opted to make a couple of sandwiches. Again, this could've been sweet considering his persistence to make this night salvageable. But, when they had settled onto his couch to eat their dinner and watch a movie, he must've forgot that the couch was big enough for three people because he almost sat on her! Choosing to ignore this transgression, Fleur finished her dinner and decided to settle in for the movie. The movie was really good, it was about a muggle British Agent and had a really weird name that sounded an awful lot like an eight-legged sea creature.

The problem for Fleur was trying to get Bill to focus on the movie, instead of trying to make subtle "moves" to inch closer to her. Fleur had to stifle a laugh when he went for the old "act-like-I'm-yawning-and-put-my-arm-around-her-shoulder" maneuver. But, again, Fleur decided to go along with this ( _although it may be the wine talking)_ because she really didn't have any better prospects at the moment.

Looking back on it, this is definitely where Fleur dug her grave.

It was getting towards the end of the movie (and the bottom of the wine bottle) when Bill finally decided to make his move. His lips actually looked quite inviting to the now tipsy veela. _What harm is there in a little kiss?_

Yep. This was definitely the wine talking.

A little kiss turned into a full blown snogging session being heavily aided by the large amount of wine that had been consumed. Before Fleur knew it, she was straddling Bill as she continued to explore the inner crevices of his mouth with her tongue. Hands were roaming frantically over each others bodies as the snogging session continued down this downward spiral of regret. Soon, Fleur was down to nothing but her bra and knickers while her... _companion?_ …was now without a shirt and was in the process of unbuckling his pants. Once he untangled himself of his pants, he flipped them over so that he would be above the very, _very_ tipsy veela. But, when he did that, they fell off the couch and onto the hardwood floor with a thud which was enough to awaken Fleur's senses. On the way to the ground though, Bill hit his head on the coffee table... _hard_.

Now, Fleur was in a precarious position.

Not only was she half naked, she was also trapped beneath an equally half naked, unconscious, Bill Weasley who didn't look like he was going to be waking up anytime soon.

Luckily for Fleur, her discarded jeans were within distance of her long slender legs. So, after a slight stretch and some clever maneuvering she managed to pull her wand from the back pocket.

After a wordless levitation spell to remove the inebriated redhead from herself, she clumsily put on the remainder of her clothes and made a hasty exit out of the apartment.

She almost felt bad for the way she left without even getting to say a proper goodbye, but then she remembered that he had gotten her down to her bra and knickers, something very few boys had ever accomplished in Fleur's twenty years of life on this Earth. _Oh how the boys at Beauxbatons would kill to get where Bill had gotten._

So, it was with this horrendously bad date in mind, that Fleur had begun to grow nauseatingly annoyed with Bill's presence. Considering they were two of only five cursebreakers within the entire English branch of Gringotts, it was extremely difficult for Fleur to avoid the eldest Weasley son.

Luckily for Fleur, she knew of a certain goblin that happened to owe her a favor.

"Filluk!"

The dreary goblin fortunately ( _or unfortunately for him_ ) passed by her just before Bill managed to reach her.

Filluk was known among those in the bank for being in a perpetual state of boredom and had little personality whatsoever. _Although, I guess the same could be said about all goblins._

Nevertheless, the goblin did have a strange obsession with chocolate. As did Fleur, so she had decided a month ago to gift Filluk a box of chocolates for Christmas to try to gain some favor among one of the senior goblins in the bank. Now, people obsessing over chocolate isn't really something to write home about. But, the fact that Filluk enjoys something that is so sweet and just overall _happy_ , was astonishing to her. _Maybe goblins really do have souls?_

"What do you want Birdy?" _Ah. A bird joke. How original._

"Oh, not much." She was met with pure daggers staring at her knowing she wanted _something_.

After a long, awkward silence he finally spoke. " _Now_ Delacour. _"_

 _Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning._

"I was just going to request to be put on teller duty today." She tried to etch a hopeful expression onto her face. But that expression immediately turned apprehensive when she noticed his normally neutral dreary countenance turn into a predatory grin.

"And why, pray tell, should I put a highly trained, and highly paid, cursebreaker at the teller when her job is most definitely _not_ at that post?"

 _Compose yourself Fleur._

"Because, said cursebreaker 'as been very benevolent with 'er delectable chocolates and might begin to become very greedy with said delectable chocolates in the future."

She could see the gears working in Filluk's head and a slight twitch just above his left eyebrow.

"Unfortunately..." _no!_ "it seems that we have had a scheduling conflict..." _wait, where is he going with this?_ "and have an immediate need for another teller today." _Yes! Yes! Yes!_

"It's a good thing I 'ave some experience at the counter then." Fleur replied sweetly, much to Filluk's chagrin. The grumpy goblin exited with a grunt and Fleur managed to escape to the counters,away from a red-headed cursebreaker.

 _Being a teller may be boring, but at least it's better than being stuck in a perpetual state of awkwardness, right?_

As it would turn out: wrong.

The day had gone off without a hitch, with only the occasional grumpy customer here or there. Fleur's line did seem to attract quite a larger proportion of males than the other counters. _Scary looking goblin or attractive young veela? Hmmm._

It wasn't like she had some sort of supernatural magic that called men towards her to do her every bidding, she was just an amazingly beautiful witch. The tales of the veela that were breathtaking women one moment and fire-wielding harpies the next were just that: tales! Sure, she did have some affinity towards fire-based magic, but she definitely wasn't half-bird! Veelas had copulated with humans for so long, that their descendants were now decidedly more human than veela.

Except for in the looks department. Modern veela were all still breathtakingly beautiful. And Fleur? She's even stunning by veela standards.

So, it was with no surprise that she had become quite the popular bank teller this day.

About halfway through the workday, something finally caught Fleur's eye that broke the monotony of being a teller at Gringotts.

It didn't seem to be anything major, just two men (one young and one middle-aged) having a spat over a particular handbag.

The older man seemed to be winning the argument. He seemed to be a pretty handsome fellow, average height, shaggy black hair, to go with a pair of grey eyes.

The younger one was a little shorter and had his back to her. He too seemed to have that same messy black hair, although his seemed to be cut a little bit shorter.

Their argument continued for several minutes as they had a tug-of-war over the large handbag that appeared to be made of dragonhide… _which also appeared to be moving._

As soon as Fleur noticed the bag begin to move, both men tugged on each handle of the bag causing the zipper to rip apart as the bag went flying high into the air while they simultaneously both slid to the floor.

From that point on, it was pure and utter chaos.

Dozens of pixies came flying out of the seemingly endless handbag and immediately sought the closest human (or goblin) they could wreak havoc upon.

Being from the Continent, Fleur had never encountered pixies firsthand, but she certainly never expected them to be capable of causing so much chaos in a place as prestigious as Gringotts.

Spells and jinxes were being cast all throughout the floor of the bank by both wizards and witches alike, while the goblins attempted to try and capture the mini blue demons from hell. Why wouldn't they? Pixies, while exceptionally mischievous, were also quite valuable on the open market.

The speed and agility of the pixies made them almost impossible to hit, and resulted in more wizards falling to the floor than the pixies they were trying to hit.

Fleur herself was forced to duck behind her counter in order to avoid being hit by some misfired spells.

Throughout all the chaos, the two men that started this whole mess seemed to completely vanish!

During all of this commotion, Fleur figured they probably just high-tailed it out of there in fear of anybody holding them for retribution. But, Fleur's better judgment kicked in when she heard the Gringotts alarm begin to sound.

The siren was loud enough that all of wizarding England could probably hear it. All of the exits out of the building were quickly locked down and three layers of wards surrounded the bank to prevent any possible burglar from apparating away. Goblin guards armed to the teeth came storming into the lobby blocking all the exits while the pixies continued their assault.

Extensive training for possible robberies meant everyone, goblin and human-alike, were assigned specific duties when the alarm went off. Fleur was assigned the employee's entrance in the back of the bank to ensure that the wards were holding firm. So, after some deft maneuvering around the remaining pixies that avoided capture by the goblins, she made it to her post unscathed to begin her inspection of the wards. Also at the entrance were four, fully-armored goblins preventing anybody from escaping through this gate.

The employees entrance wasn't as grand as the visitors entrance to the bank, but it was still quite a large passageway. During her inspection of the wards, Fleur heard a loud crack behind her followed by four distinct thuds immediately after. Whipping her head around, Fleur saw that the four guards were completely incapacitated. Where they once stood was now occupied by the same two men whom started this whole commotion out in the lobby. This time, however, both their wands were drawn and pointed at the exit while they also carried a bag of what was probably gold.

 _These men must have a death wish if they're daft enough to steal from the goblins!_

Luckily, for Fleur at least, the two men didn't notice her when they entered the room because she had been inspecting the wards in an alcove in the corner of the room that could easily be overlooked. Knowing she would need some backup, Fleur cast a patronus charm to Filluk and told him to bring help.

The problem for Fleur was that the younger man, _who really looks more like a boy upon closer inspection_ , had heard her cast the charm.

 _Shit._

Fleur just barely managed to side-step a body-bind curse where she was standing a moment ago. She immediately countered with some stunners of her own, but the boy was able to either dodge them or block them with a shield charm.

The older man, during this exchange, rennervated one of the guards he had incapacitated earlier only to press his wand into the goblins neck and force him to unlock the exit. The guard complied, and after a few short waves of his hands coupled with some whispered incantations, the locks on the entrance began to unlock.

As the locks began to dissipate, Fleur and the boy continued to dual. While they were sparring, Fleur finally got a good look at the boy she had only seen from behind earlier. He wore typical black wizarding robes that fit his slim figure nicely and his face was well-proportioned. If he wasn't currently sending an array of spells at her right now, she would actually find him surprisingly attractive.

Be that as it may, Fleur and the boy were very evenly matched in terms of their dueling skills. Fortunately for Fleur, Filluk and a dozen other guards came storming into the entrance area when she was beginning to run of spells to fire at him.

"Birdy, get out of the way! We're going to filet these bastards for all they're worth!" But, Filluk's warning didn't help Fleur, it actually just distracted her enough to allow the boy to disarm her before summoning her to his chest where he immediately pressed her wand to her throat. Fleur was actually about two inches taller than the boy so part of his face was covered by her shoulder as he finally spoke for the first time.

"Are you willing to harm one of your employees just to catch a couple of humble thieves?" The boy responded with a calmness that she thought few possessed in situations like this. As he spoke, Bill Weasley entered the room with a couple of more guards… _great._ The goblins, along with Bill continued to inch closer to Fleur and the two thieves. The last lock on the door was finally unhinging when the guard that the older man had rennervated clawed at the older man's face causing him to stagger just slightly away from the younger thief and Fleur. This opening was all Filluk needed to justify an attack.

"Get them!" Shouted Filluk as about twenty slicing curses came hurtling towards them. The boy immediately hugged Fleur close to his body and jumped through the doorway that just moments ago was locked.

Fleur barely had to time to brace herself for being yanked backwards through the doorway and to the other side of the wards. While the doorway had finally opened, the wards were still up which prevented the slicing curses from reaching Fleur and the boy.

When they jumped through the doorway, Fleur hit her head on the stone road that ran around the perimeter of the bank. Looking back at the doorway they had just jumped through, Fleur caught a rather gruesome image.

The older man had deep gashes all over his front side and had turned a deathly pale. Filluk had not held back in the slightest.

While Fleur was still trying to get a clear sense of her surroundings, the younger boy was getting to his feet and busying himself with sealing off the doorway so that they could not be followed. He had yet to notice his crime partner's wounds.

"All right you mutt, time to get out of here. I'd rather not get cursed by that fat gob-" He stopped speaking the moment he finally took in the state of his partner.

"Oh shit, you've got to be kidding me right now you inbred dog. This is _not_ the time for your dramatics." While Fleur was still in a haze, she could tell that the younger boy's words had no real sting. He knelt down next to his partner's side and began to peel off his bloodstained shirt. When he got a look at the deep wounds, he quickly averted his gaze. But, he steeled himself when his partner managed to grab the end of his robes.

"I always knew-…I'd kick the can in spectacular fashion." He rasped, with a particularly nasty cough that sounded painful.

The boy gave a pained smile to his partner's words. "Shut up, you're not even dead yet ya' narcissistic bastard. Besides, we still need to finish our grand escape so that we can finally accomplish your dream." Whatever dream this was, Fleur could tell it was mutual between the two thieves.

"Sorry sport," another sharp cough came from the dying man leaving red specks on the face of his younger partner, "but my dream has already come true. I've gotten to be apart of your life and that is all I could've ever asked for."

At this, tears started to fall from the younger boy. The bloodied man's hand reached up to cup the boy's cheek and gave him one last weak smile.

"Get out of here, please. Do what you have to do, it's all going to be fine sport." The older man's eyes closed and, while still faintly breathing, it was clear that he would not survive. Raising his wand, the boy mentally steeled himself and muttered what seemed liked a modified vanishing spell. _A vanishing spell? What does he plan on making disappear?_

All of a sudden, the area where the terminal thief just laid was empty. The only evidence that a man had just been there was the blood that had pooled on the cobbled walkway. Fleur's head, while still very sore, emerged from its haze.

"How can you just vanish your partner like that!? Did he really mean that little to you!?" Even more questions swirled around the spell he used to accomplish this feat. She thought she knew more magic than anyone her age but, clearly, this boy knew something she didn't.

"Shut up!" Uh oh, Fleur, you really should've made sure you had your wand back before scolding a bank robber! "You have no idea what you're talking about, Fleur!" Whatever sadness he had felt about the death of his partner had turned into anger and was directed solely at her. His eyes were filled with determination, and his chest was covered in blood from holding his partner. It was a truly imposing picture to behold. Fleur began to worry she would be on the receiving end of one his vanishing spells next. But, she wasn't a Triwizard Champion for nothing.

"I am a Triwizard Champion, not some silly little school girl who doesn't know her spells. Who are you to-" She paused once she finally processed exactly what he had said to her: 'You have no idea what you're talking about, _Fleur.'_

Who _is_ this boy?

"Wait how did you kno-" She was cut off again when several loud cracks reverberated around the walkway they were currently occupying. Fleur looked over his shoulder and could see five aurors wearing their easily identifiable red robes closing in on their position. Behind her, five more apparated into the walkway with their wands already drawn and ready to cast. They too were wearing their red robes that were undoubtably enchanted with different kinds of spells that were woven into the clothing to provide them with extra layers of protection. The boy, who _clearly_ knew her, quickly pointed his wand at Fleur and a quick flash, as if it was a muggle camera, came forth out of his wand causing Fleur to look away from the brightness. She didn't know what had just happened, but she did know that these aurors could help her.

"Please 'elp! 'E has my wand and 'e just robbed Gringotts!" Fleur was frantically trying to maneuver herself to the aurors behind her, safety seeming oh-so close. When she looked over her shoulder to see if the boy would try to curse her from behind, she was perplexed to see that his angry had façade had morphed into a predatory smirk.

Fleur became even more confused when he spoke.

"Padfoot, what are you talking about? This was a two-person job. Hell, you were the one who came up with the plan ya' old dog!" What on Earth was he talking about!? He sounds like he's taken a bludger to the head.

As Fleur continued her trek towards the aurors, her eyes widened when a stunner was cast directly at her! Using her quick dueling reflexes, she jumped to her left to avoid the spell, slamming her back onto the wall lining the walkway.

"Stop! What are you doing? I'm on your side you crazy English!" Whatever respect she had gained for the English during her time on the isle was quickly fading. Could they actually believe that she's an accomplice in this heist?

"Enough pissin' around Padfoot, time to make our grand escape." Said the boy. He then cast a shield charm to protect his backside with his former partner's wand while also summoning Fleur to his chest with his own wand. Reaching towards his neck, he pulled out a necklace that he'd been wearing that had a wooden pendant in the shape of a stag.

"Don't let them escape!" Shouted an imposing auror who wore even more extravagant robes than the typical magical law enforcement officer.

The aurors began to close in on them, casting as many stunners and body-binders as they could. The boy had cast another shield in front of him and Fleur, the aurors' spells bounced right off with their only effect being the loud " _bang"_ reverberating each time their spells hit the shield.

"I would hold on tight if I were you." The boy whispered into Fleur's ear. She really wasn't enamored with the idea of fleeing from law enforcement with this delinquent, but with the way the aurors were acting as if she was the felon, this was her only option.

She also tried to squelch the shivers that ran down her spine when his breath tickled her ear. It was a fruitless endeavor.

Fleur felt the familiar pull behind her navel as the boy activated the portkey. The next thing she knew she was hurtling through the air, twisting and turning in all different directions. Soon, it was over. She was on her back in a dimly lit hallway that was lined with some truly horrific artwork that seemed to be out of the eighteenth century. Décor, though, was the least of Fleur's worries.

Not unlike the predicament she found herself in a week ago, Fleur found herself underneath another wizard.

Apparently, the boy was as graceful as Fleur when it came to travel by portkey. In other words, they couldn't land on their feet if their lives depended on it.

Unlike her prior predicament with Bill, this _boy_ was not knocked-out cold. In fact, he was laughing at her! _How dare this boy laugh at me!_

"Get off me vous cochon anglaise!" Luckily, Fleur's athletic body allowed her to push the boy off, sending him sprawling to her side. "Why are you laughing? Where are we? Who are you? 'Ow do you know _me_!?" The questions continued to pour out of her as she finally had the opportunity to question her assailant.

He just kept laughing. It was _infuriating_.

Deciding to try and find a way out of her current predicament, Fleur got up in an attempt to find an exit. Traversing down the dreary hallway, Fleur passed a variety of different paintings depicting battles, stoic wizards and witches alike. Finally making it to the end of the hallway, Fleur gasped. The hallway dead-ended into a large, expansive entryway that had a rotunda that appeared to go on forever. Lining the rotunda all the way to the top was a spiral staircase fitted with red-carpeting that seemed to be built for royalty. Walking around the massive circular room, Fleur came to a halt in front of a regal, full-body mirror. Her jaw dropped when, instead of seeing her uniquely veela characteristics, she only saw the roguish face, and shaggy black hair of the man she had just seen die in the walkway outside of Gringotts.

"What's wrong Sirius, I thought you loved to look at yourself in the mirror?" Still gazing into the mirror in shock, Fleur could see the boy standing a few meters behind her. He was no longer laughing. Instead, he just wore an odd smile that was a mixture of sadness and amusement.

"'Ow is this possible?" Fleur asked.

"Just think of it as a modified glamor charm." More amusement seeped into his face. "Don't worry, it'll wear off any minute now. Can't make it last any longer without using Polyjuice. But, of course, I'm sure you knew that considering you're a _Triwizard Champion_." The derisive mention of the tournament was enough to get Fleur to turn around and face him.

"I don't know who you are, or what you're playing at, but _clearly_ you know who I am." Assuming that if the boy intended to cause her immediate harm, he would have already done so, Fleur began to stride towards him. "Tell me. Who. Are. You?"

The boy had his eyes cast towards the floor now and shuffled his feet. For the first time Fleur felt like she was the one in control of the situation.

After several tense seconds, the boy finally looked up with that same, oddly contradictory smile.

"I'm shocked Fleur. I thought for sure you would've remembered this _leetle boy_ above all the others."

Whatever control Fleur had gained was gone in an instant. She could only manage to breath out one word before she fainted.

"'Arry."

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 **A/N: I hope you all enjoyed chapter one. Obviously, this is not canon compliant but I assure you all will be explained eventually. Reviews would be appreciated, especially since this is my first time. I look forward to continuing this adventure in the ensuing chapters. Have a great day!**

 **-BaptismByeFire**


	2. Scrambled Eggs

**Chapter 2 – Scrambled Eggs**

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Quidditch Pitch – 1994_

"Ladies and gentleman, it is with heavy hearts and souls that we must announce the deaths of two of our champions." The crowd in the stands let out a mixture of gasps, wails, and screams. This was supposed to be a day of celebration, marking the end of the prestigious Triwizard Tournament.

Fleur sat on her transfigured bed in the champion's tent. Unlike all of the supporters in the stands, Fleur didn't show a physical reaction to the morbid news that Minister Fudge bellowed to the audience. Internally, though, Fleur was at war with herself.

On the one hand, she believed every one of the champions knew the risks that the tournament entailed. But, contrarily, she had come to respect each of her competitors in their own way.

 _And Harry didn't know the risks of this tournament_. A small voice in Fleur's head assured that she wouldn't omit that detail.

"Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter were loved by any who had the pleasure of knowing them. They were good, kind-hearted wizards who had very bright futures ahead of them." Fudge continued his impromptu eulogy of the fallen champions. How he would know the character of Cedric and Harry baffled Fleur, but at this stage it was pointless to be affronted. "Unfortunately, their lives were cut far too short." More sobs could be heard at the repeated confirmation of their deaths. "During the third and final task, our brave competitors managed to navigate themselves through the maze until they found the Triwizard Cup. Being the selfless wizards that they were, they decided share in the glory of victory." Fleur gave a humorless laugh at that; anybody that had the displeasure of navigating that maze couldn't give a damn about selflessness, it was solely about survival. "Sadly, the notorious Azkaban-escapee, Sirius Black, had manipulated the cup into a portkey where he had setup an ambush for our esteemed champions." Fudge sounded like a man retelling a grand tale, crescendoing towards the climax of the story. "The portkey led to the graveyard of Black's _former_ Dark Lord He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named where Black murdered, in cold-blood, young Cedric Diggory!"

Fleur knew the English were crass, but she never thought someone could be so insensitive as to recall the death of a student in front of his own father! She gripped the sheets on her bed in frustration of the entire situation.

"But one murder was not enough," Fudge continued, "Black wanted revenge on our youngest champion, Harry. Poor, poor, Harry." Fleur almost gagged at the absurdity of the Minister's monologue. "Just as he murdered his best friend on that fateful night fourteen years ago, he also gruesomely butchered his own godson, eviscerating all but a single finger!" A cacophony of angry yells, painful wails, and vicious curses was all Fleur heard from the crowd as Fudge finished his speech.

Fleur's mind was in the midst of a hurricane of emotions. Given everything that had occurred, she tried what had always worked for her and lied down on the bed in search of some sort of escape from the hell she and her fellow champions had found themselves in.

Looking up at the top of the hospital tent, Fleur focused on the storm howling within her head. When this year started, she would have given anything to have the opportunity to be a Triwizard Champion. Now, she would trade it all back just to have the chance to never join this wretched tournament.

* * *

 _Present Day_

When Fleur finally awoke from her slumber, she noticed two things. One, she was lying on a four-poster bed fit for a queen. No longer was she in the foyer, instead she was in a grand bedroom with valuable, if not archaic, furniture furnishing the room. Secondly, bright light was beginning to shine through the extravagant curtains that lined the windowsill. Had she really slept through the entire night? _Well,_ _I suppose being kidnapped by a dead man can really throw a witch for a loop._

It was amazing, Fleur thought, that the night she finds out Harry Potter is not dead, her subconscious decides to playback that terrible night three years ago in her sleep.

Harry is _alive_. She still couldn't comprehend how the boy that saved her precious sister was not dead, but, actually, very much alive.

How did he survive that night? Did the British Ministry lie to the people? Or, was _Harry_ involved in the murder of Cedric? That couldn't be possible. He was Harry Potter! The Boy-Who-Lived, the hero of Britain, and, most importantly, the boy who saved her Gabrielle.

But, then again, it was impossible to survive the killing curse, too.

 _Gah!_ None of this makes sense! She should've taken the job in her Maman's boutique store like she had wanted her to do.

Snapping Fleur out of her stupor was the smell of something delicious cooking from somewhere within the house - nay, _mansion_. Her stomach also noticed the delightful aroma and decided to make its presence known with a loud growl.

Deciding to discover the source of the cuisine, Fleur made her way out of the bedroom and into the hallway, navigating herself to the spiral staircase. Following the scent, Fleur continued her trek down the stairs in search of whatever was cooking. Along the journey, Fleur passed the mirror in which she had saw that her appearance changed last night. Fortunately, all was as it should be this time. Gone was the shaggy black hair, facial stubble, grey eyes, and masculine figure. In its place was her shoulder-blade length silvery-blonde hair. Where there was once facial hair, was silky smooth skin that any man only dreamed of caressing. Instead of grey eyes, sky-blue orbs now rested in their place accenting her athletic figure in a way only someone with veela heritage could.

Pleased that she no longer appeared as a middle-aged wizard, Fleur continued her walk in search of the food that her stomach craved.

Finally, she found what she was looking for. But, the scene that was laid out before her baffled her even more.

Her apparent kidnapper, and former co-champion, was standing over the kitchen stove frying a quartet of eggs as if he was just an average muggle cooking breakfast. _Ah, but of course he is, Fleur! What else would you expect him to be doing after coming back from the dead and robbing the most secure wizarding bank in the world!?_

No longer was he wearing the black wizarding robes that he had the night before. Instead, he had changed into casual muggle clothing.

Cutting through her thoughts was his voice.

"How do you like your eggs, Fleur?"

Was he _serious_? How did he even know she was there!?

Sensing she would never understand this boy in front of her, she resigned herself to just answering the question.

"Scrambled." Fleur said with an exasperated sigh.

Making her way into the kitchen, she was surprised to find it to be quite small, warm, and homey. It felt completely out of place with the rest of the mansion. It was like a home within a home.

As Harry continued cooking breakfast with his back towards her, Fleur walked on the other side of the kitchen island towards the round dining table that could hold four people. Maneuvering her way to the side of the table that could give her a direct look at him, Fleur was stunned to find her wand laying right next to her silverware as if it was just another eating utensil.

 _Either he is an incredibly incompetent kidnapper, or she is about to look stupid._

 _Again._

Quickly, Fleur grabbed her wand and hid it on her lap, using her napkin to conceal her precious Rosewood wand. Harry, finished with fixing breakfast, turned around with the skillet in-hand, and scooped some eggs onto Fleur's plate before serving his own dish. Fleur did her best to maintain a neutral expression.

Of course, that had been an easy task when she was at Beauxbaton's. Her aloofness and perceived indifference towards others were passable deterrents to many a dozen suitors during her time at the institution.

But, as with everything that involves Harry, _nothing_ could stay normal.

Fleur could feel his eyes staring right at her as he began to eat his breakfast. She started to fidget uncomfortably in her seat and fumbled with her silverware as she attempted to keep her cover.

"Everything alright over there, Fleur?" Harry asked.

She desperately hoped her cover hadn't been blown and tried to carry-on with her act just a little while longer. _Just act normal, Fleur, he's still just that little boy you met three years ago that looked as if a strong breeze could send him tumbling._

Apparently, though, that command never reached her brain. Somewhere along the route, the message had changed from 'Just act normal,' to 'Act like Bitch Fleur.'

"Oh, of course I'm alright 'Arry! It's not as if you came back from the grave, robbed Gringotts, _vanished_ a wizard, and then kidnapped me!" Fleur's disdain for the entire situation was finally starting to show towards her captor. "And then, you 'ave the audacity to make me eggs!? Eggs, 'Arry! You don't do that!" If the stories they made up about veela were true, Fleur was sure she would have sprouted feathers and grown a beak by this point!

There was an awkward pause after her small outburst. Harry looked at her with confusion marred all over his face. His response only served to sever any grasps of sanity Fleur had left.

"So…you don't like the eggs?" He asked with the most infuriatingly innocent voice that only accented his, even more so, innocent expression.

While Fleur had always been adamant that she was human and not a magical creature, the feral sound that emanated from her sounded utterly animalistic.

"Gah! That's eet!" Standing up abruptly, Fleur revealed her wand and sent a stunner directly at him. His only reaction was a slight widening of his eyes, and the tiniest of twitches at the corner of his mouth. Surprisingly, at least to Fleur, he didn't even attempt to dodge the charm – he just let it hit him straight in the chest.

Figuring she should take advantage of this opportunity, Fleur fled the kitchen in search of an escape to the outside world. Making her way back to the main entrance of the mansion, she made a beeline towards the grand doors…only to be sent sprawling backwards.

Propping herself into an upright position, Fleur looked at the doors incredulously. She couldn't even sense the wards, and when she stepped closer to cast a diagnostic charm on the doorway, she was encountered with a ward she had never seen before.

With another sigh, _she'd really been doing that far too often lately,_ Fleur scampered off in search of another exit. But, again and again and _again_ , she was sent sprawling onto her _derrière_ by the complex wards.

Ashamed that a professional cursebreaker and Triwizard Champion could not get past a seventeen-year old's wards, not to mention that her rear was becoming quite sore, the once proud French woman returned to the kitchen with her tail between her legs.

Sitting back down in her original seat, Fleur dropped her head onto the table and let loose several _choice_ French words. Apparently, Fleur's nightmare would never end.

On the bright side, she didn't have to worry about rushing for work this morning. Amazingly, even the goblins had an 'Extenuating Circumstances' policy, and this certainly would apply. _Small blessings, Fleur, small blessings._

Taking a peak through her arms, Fleur gave a small chuckle at the expression that was left on Harry's face from when she stunned him. His face was frozen with a look of confusion, shock, and humor all blended into one. The odd combination led to a very comical expression.

Resigning herself to being stuck in her current predicament, she figured the least she could do was try to find some answers.

A loud _'Grrr"_ emanated from Fleur's stomach.

 _Answers can wait until after breakfast._

* * *

 _Gringotts Wizarding Bank_

Filluk always knew that his chocolate addiction would catch up with him. How stupid could he be to actually think that a witch gifting him a box of chocolates couldn't go terribly wrong? Griphook always told him to watch out for that veela. If only he would have listened.

No matter, now Filluk was going to finally have the opportunity of going bird hunting. And he was going to enjoy it, immensely.

"Filluk, come with me to my office. We have an important matter that needs to be discussed." Griphook said.

Filluk had little doubt what this _matter_ would be.

Closing the door behind Filluk, Griphook walked behind his desk and leveled Filluk with a stare that could cut through diamonds.

While Filluk didn't give any signs, at least that a human could detect, of anxiety from being under the wand of his superior, a keen goblin could notice his discomfort.

"We have a problem, Filluk." Griphook began. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you how much we value our reputation as being the most secure wizarding bank in the entire world. We can't have episodes like yesterday jeopardizing our clients' trust in our establishment."

"Of course, sir. I've already taken steps to mend our clients' fractured trust in our institution." Filluk replied.

"And I'm sure this will be conducted discreetly, and not besmirch our _pristine_ relationship with the Ministry." Griphook said. Filluk didn't miss the sarcasm that rolled off his superior's tongue when the topic of 'Goblin – British Ministry' relations was mentioned.

"Don't worry, sir. The Ministry will be of no concern in this matter. They are nothing but bumbling buffoons who couldn't even see a hippogriff if it kicked them in the face." _Does he really believe I would make the mistake of trusting a witch twice?_

"That may be true, typically. But, Director Bones has proven to be quite formidable and if she is made aware of your… _contingency plan_ , Gringotts could face could face severe backlash and I will not tolerate such actions." Griphook rose and leaned over his desk to make his point unmistakably clear. "Somebody _will_ pay for this, Filluk. And, if you can't bring justice to that veela you will face the penalties instead. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal."

A sinister smirk found its way onto Griphook's face, "Good, I'm glad that we finally got that sorted out. Now, what do you have planned for your little bird hunt?"

"Well, sir, I have had my top security analyst review the robbery via the pensieve. You'll be shocked who he believes was a collaborator in this heist."

"Who?" Griphook replied anxiously.

"Sirius Black."

"If you weren't goblin I would say you're joking." Griphook started. "I wonder what, exactly, within our ancient walls was enough to draw out the infamous Mr. Black."

"We don't know yet, sir, but we will find out."

"How does this relate to the girl, though?" Griphook asked.

With a sigh, Filluk responded, "We don't know that yet, either. But, it might not be his relationship with the girl that is of interest here."

"What do you mean? She may know the other boy?" Griphook asked perplexed.

"We all may know the other boy." Filluk said, only furthering Griphook's confusion.

"What the bloody hell does that mean, Filluk? Get to the point!"

"We believe the boy may be Harry Potter."

"No, that can't be. That's impossible." Griphook said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than anything.

"Yes, it should be impossible. But, then again, he did survive You-Know-Who's Killing Curse as a baby so maybe it is possible." Filluk countered.

Griphook gave a grunt of begrudged agreement before muttering a few choice gobbledygook swear words under his breath.

"Sir, I know it's surprising that Potter could be alive, but I assure you we can eliminate him along with the vee-"

"MERLIN, NO!" Griphook shouted. "Do you know what kind of hippogriff shit we'd be in if the Ministry or, Merlin forbid, the _Daily Prophet_ found out that Gringotts had the Boy-Who-Lived killed!?"

Trying to assuage his superior's fears, "Of course, sir. That's why they will never find out who was responsible for the boy's death. I have already begun the process of assembling a unit of highly-trained assassins- _…errr,_ I mean contractors, to do the deed for us. With my oversight, of course."

After a few seconds digesting Filluk's information, Griphook asked "Who did you have in mind?"

"So far we have Stryker Everbleed, an American who specializes in magical marksmanship; Elaine Vossen, a Dutch witch with an uncanny ability to track a target at a level that is supposedly unmatched on the Continent; finally, we have Victoria Bloodworth- I'm sure I don't have to explain how she came about her surname." As he listed off the _contractors_ , Filluk conjured manila folders containing profiles of each one.

The first folder was filled with paperwork documenting past contracts that Stryker Everbleed had completed. Paper-clipped at the top of the folder was a magical photograph depicting a well-built man dressed in camouflaged wizarding robes posing with a dead acromantula. With an impressive beard and, what appeared to be a muggle hunting rifle, he fit the stereotype of an American hunter.

Elaine Vossen's folder wasn't as thick but was impressive nonetheless. The picture in her folder showed a young woman who looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties, lithely built, with shoulder length blonde hair that was wrapped into a tight bun. Wrapped around her waist was a toolkit containing a variety of different tracking tools and trinkets meant to find her targets.

Lastly, the third and final folder contained nothing but a single photograph and one barely filled out application that only had the name and gender filled out. The photo was grainy and filled with a bustle of different strangers passing by. Only one individual could be made out clearly. She had raven-locks that flowed down her back, a pale complexion, and ruby-red lips that covered pointed teeth. This, undoubtedly, was Victoria Bloodworth, a vampire who had been feasting off her targets since, perhaps, the foundation of Gringotts itself.

Griphook gave a hum of approval at the team that he had assembled, "Not bad, Filluk, you may salvage your hide yet."

"Thank you, sir. I won't let you down." Filluk replied as he rose to exit the office. On the way out, Griphook called for him to stop.

"I know that I have stressed the importance of this matter at hand, but I'm afraid that I'm going to have to assign one more wizard to your team. Unfortunately, that veela we're after has been having relations with Weasley and he is threatening to quit if he's not allowed to be put on the, and I quote, 'Search and Rescue' team. And before you try to cut me off," Griphook raised a clawed hand, "I can't afford to be down forty percent of my cursebreakers. The man even had the audacity to threaten to notify the Department of Magical Law Enforcement if we didn't take the 'necessary actions that are required.' If his brother wasn't whispering in the Minister's ear, I'd add _him_ to the list of targets." Griphook finished with a snarl.

Knowing there was no way out of his predicament, Filluk sighed and replied, "I'm sure we can find use of him somewhere, sir."

And with that, Filluk left his boss's office to assemble his team.

The hunt was about to begin.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **I hope you all enjoyed the second chapter of "Extenuating Circumstances", I know that I've enjoyed the time I've spent writing this story. I'm sure this chapter didn't answer many of your questions regarding how these sequences of events have taken place, but they will be answered eventually.**

 **Also, I've had many people ask me about the pairing for this story and, as I told them, I won't be putting a pairing tag until later on in the story. But, I'm sure you all can surmise that Fleur was not enamored with her date with Bill.**

 **As for an update schedule, unfortunately, I don't really have one right now. However, I am doing my best to aim for at least one chapter every other week.**

 **Thank you again for reading, I really appreciate any reviews or PMs you may have about the story. I read all of them, so please, let me know what you think!**

 **\- BBF**


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